


There's No Ghost

by Transom (ThegoodshipRickyl)



Category: Papillon (1973)
Genre: Bittersweet, Friendship, Love, M/M, Reunion, These two little weirdos are in love forever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-23 13:10:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16159619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThegoodshipRickyl/pseuds/Transom
Summary: Some missing stuff from Devil's Island, and some of Henri's slashier thoughts.





	There's No Ghost

There was warm food in his belly and a reprieve from the hot afternoon wind inside Louis' little hut, and Henri closed his eyes as he leant back in his small wooden chair. He could feel Louis' big eyes on him, his friend's gaze looking over his body, checking for any lasting damage or perhaps simply studying him with the curiosity of time spent apart. Henri cracked an eye open to catch him staring, but Louis had already began to fuss over their plates and bowls, his familiar jerky, yet tightly controlled movements bringing a small smile to Henri's cracked lips.

"I'm alright, you know,'" he said just loud enough for Louis to pick up. "I'm still here."

Louis gave him an understanding look. "I'm very glad." He nodded, more to confirm for himself. "Very glad, Henri." He held a wooden bowl tightly in his hands, and for a brief moment it looked just like a split coconut.

He stood up, shuffling closer to where Louis stood rooted to the floor. He pried the bowl from his hands, gently. "I must look... God, I must be a real _sight_ , to have you shaking like that, " he murmured wryly. "Tell me, Louis." He gestured to his own face. "How bad?"

His friend shook his head, vehement. "It's my fault. It _was_ , both times."

Henri had to suppress a laugh. "Oh Louis. You old bastard, you haven't changed at all."

Henri still held the bowl as Louis filled his arms, his warm kiss pressed to his chest along with " _Papi_ ", whispered too quietly for anyone else on the island.

***

Henri would come to Louis' hut, but he always let Louis come to him, let him lay a hand on his chest, well below the tattoo. There always seemed to be a hump that Louis had to get over, a slight hitch of guilt for Henri to ease away with a touch. Henri's hands were stiff and clumsy beyond his years, and Louis' shook naturally, so there was always a measure of awkwardness before they fell more or less together, and ended up laughing and holding on in still, heavy moonlight.

Henri was glad for the low light, but Louis never seemed to mind looking at his solitary-beaten face and body, and after all Louis was still the shy one, removing his glasses with a flushed face before Henri grinned and kissed him just below the jaw, making him whimper in a lovely way. Henri's blood pounded like the surf in the cove, his body thrummed like the afternoon sun overhead, and the feeling of feeling alive with another person, a friend and a man he was sworn to protect, well.... It was almost enough to make a godforsaken spit of land into a home.

It was that feeling of semblance, those glimmers of freedom he tasted in the well of Louis' throat, that galvanized him all over again. He remembered how Louis had looked at the mere suggestion of escape, and thought often about asking him again. He wanted to when he saw him in the window of his hut, cooking for the both of them, or when he came up on him tending to his carrots and absentmindedly scratching one of his piglets between its ears.

Louis did agree, and even if it was just to shut up his escape-crazed friend, Henri still felt that warmth bloom. It was enough to almost knock his half-starved body right off the island, but it only lasted until they watched together as the bag of coconuts was tossed by the waves into the teeth of the rocks. Henri could almost feel Louis tremble beside him, and he knew what stood ahead of him just to make Louis believe it was okay.

Louis never said he _wasn't_ going, and they made two rafts anyway, hiding them behind Louis' hut at his insistence. The night before Henri's jump was the first time Louis came to _his_ hut, a coconut half in each hand for the two of them. It was still a sweet memory for him, biting into that fruit and leaning back against the wall of his lonely room, knowing he had a friend, an actual real one. And then when he got out that first time, and Louis fought tears and Henri thought he would kiss him, just fall on him and kiss him.... That was a sweet memory too.


End file.
